


Don't Get Lost in Hyperspace

by tspofnutmeg



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Between TLJ and TROS, Finn-centric, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, minor depictions of injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 01:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20417393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tspofnutmeg/pseuds/tspofnutmeg
Summary: “Good to know blood doesn’t bother you.”“It does bother me,” Finn finally answered. He saw the dark red streaks across his helmet flash through his mind. “That’s why I want to make it stop.”





	Don't Get Lost in Hyperspace

**Author's Note:**

> For Nick! Enjoy!

“Good to know blood doesn’t bother you.”

Finn didn’t look up from the pilot they were carrying back to the infirmary. He didn’t know the name of the Nautolan helping him with their wounded charge, only vaguely recognizing her as part of the crew General Antilles brought with him. He didn’t recognize who they had in their arms either; they could’ve been from one of a dozen different groups that had joined their main fleet over the past several months. 

Poe, Rose, and Rey had been busy pulling anyone to the Resistance they could: General Organa’s remaining contacts, pirate and organized crime groups pissed off by the First Order’s disruption of their various “enterprises,” militias, literally anyone they met who could be convinced to fight. 

Shrapnel from another craft had rammed into the Resistance pilot’s cockpit, shattering the hood. Their torso was covered in so much blood Finn couldn’t tell which parts were flight suit and which parts were skin. The only reason why the pilot was alive now was because the battle was in breathable atmosphere and was lucky enough to crash into the ground rather than explode.

Well, “lucky” may be too generous, depending on how fast they could get this pilot help.

“It does bother me,” Finn finally answered. He saw the dark red streaks across his helmet flash through his mind. “That’s why I want to make it stop.”

They reached the medbay, which was already crowded with Resistance fighters with all varying levels of injuries. A couple pirates - Hawkbats, it said on their jackets - with more minor injuries saw them and quickly vacated the table they were sitting on and waved Finn over. A Resistance medic, designated by the bright blue vest they were wearing, immediately approached the pilot, doing an amazingly quick assessment of their injuries. He loudly called out a string of numbers, and Finn assumed it must have been a code to alert other available medics to a situation that needed more assistance because three more beings in blue vests converged on the table.

The Nautolan who had helped Finn carry the pilot in was already gone, must’ve ran out as soon as their arms were empty. But Finn stayed, making himself as small and out of the way as possible, yet close enough he could still see the table. It wasn’t long before the medical team led by Major Harter Kalonia had stopped the bleeding. They were trained well enough and unfortunately, increasingly used to the kinds of violent injuries that only occur in battle.

Finn felt some of the tension evaporate from his shoulders. The most uncertain part was over. As long as they had enough bacta store to finish closing the wounds and enough time to let them replenish their blood, they would be okay. They were going to live. Finn had to believe that. 

He saw the a-wing pilot helmet on the floor, tossed to the side by one of the medics in order to check for any damage to their head or neck. Finn quickly stepped out and grabbed it, partially to make sure no one tripped over the damn thing, but he also thought the pilot might want it when they woke up. It had unique designs painted on it, probably special to their owner. 

The owner… 

Major Kalonia had called them Cino - Lieutenant Cino, from the rank markings on the helmet in his hands. 

He looked back toward them just in time to see Kalonia and her assistants finish harnessing Lieutenant Cino into the rig for their bacta tank. He watched them slowly descend into the thick liquid, buoyed by the suit. There was nothing to do now except wait, but Finn knew there were others who would need his help. Before leaving, Finn took another hard look at Lieutenant Cino, burning them into his mind. He was not going to let himself forget their name or their face, fearful this may be the last time he would see them. 

* * *

“Are you okay?” Rey asked in a low voice. She kept her hand on Finn’s shoulder and sat next to him. Of course she had noticed the change in his behavior - Finn going through the motions of his tasks like a ghost who didn’t know they weren’t supposed to be there anymore. 

Finn shrugged and leaned his weight against her side. Rey was always solid. Rey always knew what she had to do. Scavage. Fight. Fix. Train. Survive. And now she was a Jedi,  _ the Jedi _ , and although the details were ever changing, her unshakable path was to confront Kylo Ren and defeat the First Order. 

That’s not to say that Rey’s work was an easy task, but there’s always some comfort in having a course to navigate. Finn felt like he had been thrown into the vastness of space without learning how to work the controls of his ship. He’d been going along with the first idea he has - his gut reaction where it was sometimes unclear if it was a result of his stormtrooper conditioning or from him pushing against it.

Rey pressed back against him, not knowing what to say. Words were never her strong suit and even if they were, Finn didn’t seem like he wanted to talk. So she would stay with him as long as they both could before their duties pulled them away. Sometimes having a friend at your side was enough.

Their quiet reflection was short lived as Poe Dameron sauntered over to them. He squatted down in front of Finn and put a hand on his knee.

“Hey buddy,” Poe’s voice was warm, “What’s been going on with you?”

Finn looked between Rey and Poe and took a deep breath before answering, “I feel lost. I know I’m supposed to be here, be part of the Resistance, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to be making a difference anymore.

“Any inside information I had about the First Order isn’t reliable anymore since Kylo Ren took over, I don’t know how to fly, I’ve been found out or captured on every covert mission I’ve gone on-” 

“Spying is really not your strong suit,” Rey added sympathetically.

“So what good am I?” Frustration seeped into Finn’s words. “How am I sticking it to the First Order by spending my time sorting spare parts and repairing refreshers?” 

“First of all,” Poe said, “Don’t minimize the importance of people doing the small things. They keep us all glued together and the Resistance can’t function without everyone here, including you, no matter what you’re doing.”

Finn gave him a skeptical look that rivaled some of General Organa’s.

Poe’s smile still didn’t fade as he continued, “Second, you need to look deep inside you and figure that out yourself. What makes you feel fulfilled? Don’t think about what  _ we  _ need, think about what  _ you _ need to feel good.”

Rey nudged Finn in the side, “Bet you haven’t considered that.”

Finn made an annoyed noise because, in truth, he hadn’t. Life had always revolved around what other people asked of and expected from him. He never stopped to consider what he might want to do, what he wants to be good at. 

Poe’s eyes sparkled seeing the gears start to turn in Finn’s head. “Let me give you some advice my old man once told me. ‘Life is like a hyperspace. You don’t know where the hyperspace lane of life will bend and turn, you don’t know where it will go at all. Don’t try to control where hyperspace goes. There’s one thing you can know and control - yourself. Look at yourself. Who are you? What do you stand for? When you know that, wherever hyperspace takes you, you’ll be right where you’re meant to be.’”

Finn thought in silence for a few moments and then frowned in confusion. “Poe, you  _ do  _ know where you’re going in hyperspace, you chart the route to get to a specific destination.”

Poe stood up and shrugged. “That’s why he wasn’t a pilot. But his advice is still true. Figure out who you are and what you believe in, and you’ll always know what to do no matter what situation you’re in.”

* * *

It was a few days later before Finn worked up the courage to go into the medical bay. Major Harter Kalonia was there, restocking supplies and resetting the workspace, singing to herself. She was the head doctor, the only certified one left in the Resistance. Her medic staff mostly had quick and gritty field training, more about survival than healing, with two or three picking up more advanced techniques and skills with every altercation. Major Kalonia was who Finn had hoped to find, but his heart caught in his throat now that he was here.

She glanced over to him and with a nod of her head motioned for him to come in. He sat on one of the benches, Kalonia never breaking stride or missing a note of her song.

Finally the awkwardness overwhelmed Finn and he asked, “Can you teach me?”

“How to sing?” Kalonia asked, a teasing smile in her voice. “I’m not very good, but I’m sure I could give you a few pointers.”

“What? No. How to do this,” he gestured broadly to the medical suite. “How to help people and save their lives.”

“You want to be a medic.” She didn’t say it so much as a question as a questionable statement. 

“Yes! A medic. Yes. Can you teach me how to be a medic?” Finn sat straighter and smiled. “Please?”

She snorted, wiping the sweat from her cheek with her shoulder. “You don’t really seem the type. Weren’t you a stormtrooper?”

Although Kalonia never looked up, Finn still felt like her eyes were boring into him, judging him. “I was trained to be a stormtrooper. But I never did what would’ve earned me that title in the eyes of the First Order.”

“And what would that be?” A little bit of sincerity dripped through her sarcasm.

Finn took a breath and “I never killed for them.”

“But you’ve killed for us?” 

The question caused Finn’s gut to tighten. He didn’t like how she phrased it. People died because of him, he knew that, but the order was to protect, to survive, to spy, to get home safely. The order was never to harm intentionally. But she was still right. He’d done for the Resistance what he would never do for  _ them _ .

“Yes, I have killed people...” 

Finn looked toward the door just in time to see Lieutenant Cino pass by. There were still scars on their face; they had refused to use up any more of the bacta stash for the time being. They were smiling, listening to a story being told by an officer from the bridge. 

“...But I’d rather save them.”

Kalonia’s calloused but gentle hand tapped Finn’s chin, making him raise his head to meet her gaze. She gave him a heartfelt smile and said, “Let me show you around.”

Purpose blossomed in Finn’s chest as he hopped to his feet and followed his first real mentor.


End file.
